


Forgive Me Padre For I Have Sinned

by Cowboy Dan (glitchkillgasm)



Category: Jack White - Fandom, Modest Mouse (Band), The White Stripes
Genre: Age Difference, Because why not right, Boarding School, Catholic School, Consensual Underage Sex, Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, Isaac is a smart ass, M/M, and it is glorious, as it turns out he's also way too sexually active for Jack's tastes, but he's got the booty, surprise bitch you thought you'd seen the last of me, that title made me giggle as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitchkillgasm/pseuds/Cowboy%20Dan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, we've got total queer Isaac that's been dropped off at a catholic boarding school to try and keep him from his devilish ways. In the other corner, we've got headmaster!Jack who also does religious things because what the fuck even is the catholic church, amirite? So, Isaac wants to get a little bit of the D from the Jdubs and shit goes on from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

With extreme order comes an equal amount of disorder to counterbalance it, this is the only way that a student like Isaac Brock can be explained. There is always a reason for things, Jack reminds himself, the lord works in mysterious ways. He just wouldn't have thought that she would bring a teenager into his life that he would be tempted to murder every moment of each of their encounters, but he figures anything is possible, and that maybe she wants him to try his hand at it.

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The amount of silence is present on purpose to state the gravity of the situation, on Jack's part it's deliberate and calculated to be the precise amount of time to ensure optimal uncomfortability with the young man seated before him. Isaac, on the other hand, appears to be quiet -- For once -- out of defiance and arrogance, green eyes are meeting Jack's in a stare that matches his own intensity, meant to display that he isn't afraid. He's not, and they both are aware of this, but it's his job as the headmaster of Saint Gabriel's to find ways to work around that tough exterior of his. It's been four days at most since his family dropped him off at his doorstep with not much other than the baseline tuition and a handshake from the boy's mother, the brisk nature of their departure tells a tale of distanced and stressed relationships that they wanted to rid themselves of. Jack had told them that he would be in good hands, which had amounted to 'you don't have to worry about him until he turns eighteen'. It's actually his job to whip him into shape before that date comes, but it's not like he's making it easy for him, which is evident by the pack of American Spirits that he'd confiscated about ten minutes prior.

His leniency under the guise of it being the boy's first week at a rather strict school centered around religion was wearing thin as thread, threatening to snap at this very second if Isaac didn't straighten himself out. Smoking was strictly prohibited on school grounds and it was clear that he had been aware of that rule by the way that he had poorly tried to hide himself away from where anyone would spot him. Jack laces his fingers neatly in front of him on his desk and he gauges his expression for any sort of reaction at all before he speaks, "I think you might have the wrong idea about how things work around this place; Apart from god I am the person in charge. Rules are enforced here and unfortunately I'm not willing to look the other way on this offense. On top of that, I get the feeling that you don't respect me as the man of this institution," He gestures towards himself briefly, "Which is the second thing that I'm going to have to punish you for -- Your silence and lack of general cooperation with my efforts to lead you on the right path."

He hasn't even heard the boy's voice even when he stepped into his office for the first time to get his scheduling and information as to where he would be staying for his duration at the school, lips pressed into a thin line to prevent noise from escaping. God, it takes all of the power in his bone marrow not to leap over the desk and grab him by the collar when the introduction to how he sounds is "You can go fuck yourself".

 

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He's gone too far, he's gone too far and Jack fears that he isn't going to be able to forgive him as well as the lord wants for him to, doesn't know if any amount of lashings or bruises left on the younger man's skin will suffice. He smells like ashes that aren't tobacco related and it's disgusting enough that he's almost tempted to let go of the fabric of his uniform that's twisted up in his clenched fists, dark eyes are searching for an explanation and it's the worst possible time for Isaac to stop speaking entirely. Sure, he had been talking shit before, acting out the whole rebellious routine, but now he's dead silent and he's just staring up at him like he's genuinely curious about what he's going to do next.

Perched up on his desk with a joint between his index finger and thumb, there had been smoke that swirled around him, something unfamiliar by experience but known due to common sense, it didn't take long for his anger to grow into something unmanageable. He had yanked him forward by the lapels of his jacket and gained a sound of surprise from him, a mixture of a gasp and the quaking of his lungs as he struggled to manage that smoke that he had drawn into them. Now they're face to face and his jaw is clenched so tightly that he's afraid that the integrity of his teeth are going to be compromised, but the oddest thing about it is the lack of fight that the boy should have in him at that point. He's scrawny, he could tell that by the second that they had met, but he should have a bite of some sort to him. But instead, he's looking up at him with forest green eyes that show a spark of an epiphany has just struck through him and he's not sure what to do with the information, instead he's frozen underneath him.

Those lips are flush against his before his mind can register them, he stands there, closing his eyes and focusing on grounding himself to here and now, the rational side of him, the side he's desperately trying to bring out. A moan sneaks past his guard when Isaac bites his bottom lip playfully, a light jolt of just enough pain that it adds to the pleasure, and he knows that he's in too deep when his whole body feels heated.

"Oh, I see." Isaac sounds almost cocky, eyes narrowing up at him once he pulls off for a breath. He's sinned enough for the both of them in his short lifetime and Jack can finally see him for what he is, a snake in the grass, a threat disguised as a misunderstanding. His demise.

Jack's been told his entire life that the feeling that comes next is wrong, that he should be ashamed of himself for the urge inside of him that tells him that Isaac's lips look soft and heavenly. He feels disgusting and full of sin and he suddenly doesn't feel all that well and there is a hand that finds its way in the center of his chest, fingers splayed out but not pushing at all. Isaac might as well be beckoning him forward with open arms. The corner of his mouth quirks upwards and his nose crinkles at the bridge, all crooked pearly teeth and bad intentions, "You never done this before?" He asks and there's a chuckle in there that is too casual for his tastes, "I mean, you've never been with a guy?"

So it comes across to Jack in that instant that Isaac's planned it all, that he's got him cornered and it's all some game to him to try and push the barriers between them. He questions everything -- All of the punishments and the noises that the young man had made when he caned him that weren't necessarily entirely out of agony, the glint of pleasure in his eye when he would be caught in the act of breaking the rules, his frequent visits to his office. Jack does what he can and he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair and focusing his gaze elsewhere than Isaac, "I'm celibate." he grits out and it tastes like bile in the back of his throat because it means choking back more urges.

"Guy like you, 'm sure that's not that case." And his fingers easily encircle his belt buckle and Jack doesn't know why it's so easy for him to coax him forward by it, "Been playin' this game for quite some time, you and me, cat and mouse." He's breathless by the time his other hand stubs out the drug onto his mahogany desk rather carelessly. It moves to feel him through the front of his pants in a way that makes him question how often he's done it, or if this is just one other thing to add to the list of reasons why his family had left him there.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He sounds firm and his hand grips around Isaac's wrist, but he doesn't make an attempt to stop him from stroking him through the material, can't even start to help the fact that he's hard to his touch. Isaac merely rolls his eyes at that lie, how Jack couldn't even commit to it with conviction in his tone, his fingers running firmly along his length and wrapping around him.

"This isn't right." Jack states firmly and for once he gets the courage to pull Isaac's hand off of him, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Look," The young man shifts himself on the desk as if he's getting ready to lay some heavy wisdom on him, "You believe in god, right?" He gets a nod in reply, to which he continues. Tilting his head to the side and steadying his gaze on Jack, he has to fight back the laugh that even comes from the concept of him full-heartedly having faith in something like that, "Well, I don't think that god would give you the ability to have a hard on if it weren't natural. So, you're hard for me, it means you wanna fuck -- So let's do it. If god was such a homophobe, you really think he'd give dudes prostates?" and it makes too much sense. Jack's convinced that Isaac's Satan set out to tempt him, and he doesn't have the willpower to stop it from happening even though he knows the end result.

His dark eyes don't waver but there is a hunger that Isaac can detect now when he steps back and gives a simple command of "on your knees" and it's so difficult to keep his cool when he's scrambling to comply before he changes his mind.


	2. Get Behind Me Satan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiny chapter I've been meaning to post.

His mouth is on him and it feels confident enough that Jack questions whether or not he should be wearing protection, mind drifting to somewhere that shows him all of the filthy little details of Isaac's past, on his knees, pleasuring and having it drawn out of him in return. It's enough to make his stomach twist into knots and he embraces it by clutching at the base of his skull, fingers sprawling out over his scalp and steadying him down onto his length, the tip of his cock reaching the back of his throat far too soon although he seems determined to push his limits. His other hand curves around the smooth finish of his desk, over the edge and he's leaning against it, giving it his best effort not to make a sound that'll cause any unwarranted attention to come their way. God, if it isn't enough to have Isaac offer to blow him in the first place, it sends him into overdrive when he's forcing himself down, wanting to take every inch of him into his mouth. It's a lingering concept in the back of his mind that the young man is trying very hard and that he can tell he's aiming to impress, it creates a sense of paranoia that he's planned this, that he's looked forward to it. 

"Christ," He feels Isaac's throat contract around his base and he doesn't even choke, doesn't move back to prevent himself from doing so, either, instead just sitting motionless and it springs to his attention that he's waiting. His fingers grab at some of the shorter hairs at the back of his head and he moves him manually with his grip, confidently fucking his face with gentle motions of his hips once he's fairly sure that he's capable of, and willing to be treated this way. He notices that Isaac's hand is pulling down his own zipper and expertly popping open the button with two fingers, sliding his fingers down into the front of his underwear and grinding into his own touch. Some words come out of his mouth that are absent to his mind, "Is this why you've been such a pain all this time, is this what you've wanted?" He asks in a rough voice, forcing him down and watching with a sense of fascination when he chokes out a groan and swallows around him. 

His fingers wrap around the thickness of his cock and Jack sees him run his thumb gently over the slit, some of the fluid gathered there being slid around over the head as he does it, a subtle shiver going through Isaac's body. He pulls off, tugging away Jack's hand from his head and he takes just enough time to shove two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his saliva before he draws him back in. It's lewd and it shouldn't make him want more from the young man when he wiggles his hips to move his pants down below his ass and he reaches back to lubricate himself out of view, his jaw going just a bit relaxed when he does manage to fit his fingers inside of himself. 

He feels the need to interject, "Just how far you think your pretty mouth is gonna get you, boy?" He asks and there is a hint of a patronizing tone to it but he runs his fingers delicately against his scalp, not quite tugging at the strands any more than is required to move through the thick tresses, "Not really sure you deserve to be had by me, Isaac -- Not truly, at least." Instead of remaining docile and complacent to this supposed disappointing notion, the young man wrenches himself away from Jack's clutches -- Takes his mouth off of him and pulls his fingers out of himself and he's on his feet before he can even catch his breath to ask him where the hell he thinks he's heading, "Fuck you, then, it's not like you're special." He lies and it holds a weight on Isaac's tongue that is uncomfortable. 

Jack's pride prevents him from telling him to stay, but he jerks off to the images once the door is closed behind him and white splotches behind his eyelids when he cums harder than ever before, body trembling and tense. Pressed up against the door so that he can hear all of the soft and subtle movements, the hitching of breath and the whispering of names underneath bitten lips is Isaac, hand pressed down the front of his pants with a sort of stealth that'll keep his own dignity in tact. The young man has to fight back a whimper when his orgasm hits him and he's got his lips against the wood of his door, breathing softly and raggedly into the varnish as his knuckles are coated with pearly fluid. They'll play this game for weeks.


End file.
